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The MWIII ending we all (I, personally) deserved. Please accept this as my official resignation from the poorly thought out Activision "canon".
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Ghost has been Ghost for so long, I think he does not acknowledge there is a human under that skull mask.
Soap thinks he's incredibly human.
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“D’ya know who I am?” Ghost asked, and Soap thought it almost arrogant. When he met his eyes, however, Soap could only see a genuine curiosity.
“I dinnae ken,” Soap mused. “Think I’ve seen that mask on a poster before.” He pointed at the skull with a teasing smile, hoping it came across as an attempt at banter rather than a white lie.
Ghost’s laugh was low, barely perceptible.
“That’s likely, yeah."
Ghost twisted the beer bottle back and forth on the table, dragging water around as the glass scraped against the wood, clearly contemplating something.
“Simon,” he said. Soap nearly choked on his beer.or, John "Soap" MacTavish is a bounty hunter looking for the biggest score of his career: the faceless, nameless Ghost. He finds him in Saint Denis, tucked away in a secret saloon that brings forth feelings Soap has been trying to deny his whole life. Faced with the opportunity, he decides to try his hand at seduction to get Ghost alone. It works far better than expected. It also couldn't have gone more wrong.
Bookmarked by glassvials
06 Jun 2026
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Sawed Off Shoulder (Fuck With Shotgun) by Pardofelis
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
19 Jan 2024
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"Thoughts?"
"Would hate to be on your bad side, Lt." (No, he wouldn't actually.)
Ghost hmms, arms crossing over each other as he scoots lower into his chair, lifting his hips to adjust himself. Soap can't help but to glance down at the movement.
"Better go, Johnny."
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A 5+1 where Soap realizes his fascination for violence matches Ghost's and one time where he acts firstBookmarked by glassvials
05 Jun 2026
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9 observations Ghost makes on his Sergeant.
+ the one he doesn’t write down
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- English
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- 54,018
- Chapters:
- 10/10
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- 911
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Bookmarked by glassvials
29 May 2026
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“So, not that I’m complaining, or anything,” Gaz starts, and Soap knows he’s in for it, “But how come I’m not being traumatized by sexual harassment on the comms anymore?”
Soap chews his eggs slowly, because Gaz is his best mate, and he doesn’t want to lie to him, but it’s not exactly as if he can just say “Icarus’d it, mate, flew too close to the damn sun and got burnt and now it’s over.”
He shrugs a little instead, obfuscates, says, “Dunno.”
“Well that’s bollocks,” Gaz scoffs, “Wanna try again?”
Bookmarked by glassvials
30 Apr 2026
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“Almost there, Lt,” he grunts, lurching forward with Ghost’s weight. He’s no help at all in trekking across the snow and ice — his little dip in the river courtesy of a now-dead terrorist has rendered him dangerously hypothermic, and Soap’s panic grows with each ragged, wheezing inhale. At least he’s still breathing, Soap thinks grimly before he shakes his head, shoves everything down to the back of his mind to be dealt with later — his fear, his exhaustion, the ache in his bones, all of it is neatly compartmentalised until there’s only the safehouse.
One step at a time, he marches them onwards.
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Or, four times Ghost and Soap take turns taking care of each other, and one time it's mutual.
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- English
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Bookmarked by glassvials
19 Apr 2026

